


Memorials (part 1)

by elcasaurus



Series: Memorials [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elcasaurus/pseuds/elcasaurus
Summary: Tifa falls into the lifestream and finds herself trapped in a world of Sephiroth's memories. Can she escape with her life?
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Sephiroth
Series: Memorials [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163168
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Memorials (part 1)

(1)

It wasn’t the hit that surprised her. Being hit like that was old news. A familiar pain exploded in her gut and burned her body. It was bright and harsh and manageable. Her breath automatically sucked in to replace what had been stolen. Her body tensed against it. Her jaw bit down on it. She knew it like an old friend. 

It was the fall that was so shocking. 

The mech had slammed into her stomach, and her boot had slipped on an oil slick it had left behind, and suddenly she was falling from the narrow walkway. Unbelievable. How many hundreds of fights, thousands of fights, had she survived only to be taken out by slipping on a puddle. Suddenly the walkway was above her, and all that was beneath was the deep vein of mako that fed the reactor.

Above, Cloud’s wail broke the air around her. He reached over the ledge as if he could grab her out of her fall, nearly following her before a metal hand grabbed him and pulled him back. Below, she waited for the sharper smack of the pool, but nothing came. It reached up for her, enveloped her, engulfed her, and then everything was bright nuclear green.

Well hell, she thought. What a stupid way to die.

Falling into the mako was softer than she thought it would be. The light held her, caressed her, wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She wondered how long it would take for her to dissolve, her body and soul returned to the planet and the life stream. She was just letting go, just giving in, when something pressed hard on her arm. It took some effort to focus on it. She had already resigned herself, but the pressure was insistent. Whatever it was groped her elbow, then wrapped around her bicep. She focused harder. 

It was a hand. 

She blinked, and tried to pull away, when it gripped hard and yanked. Her body flew through the ether after it, burst through some sort of barrier, and slammed into a hard rocky floor with a new brilliant burst of pain. 

As she coughed and sputtered, those same hands sat her up and brushed her hair from her face, and gently caressed her cheek. Then, the air split with a terrible cackle that sank into the core of her soul. 

Against the immediate panic, against the cold spike of fear that jammed her body, far worse than even the thought of death, Tifa forced herself to open her eyes and look up into the face of her savior. 

Sephiroth.

The great nightmare, the murderer, the planet killer. 

He was howling with his mad, manic laughter. Somehow, someway he had survived falling into the mako pit all those years ago, survived when she, Cloud and their friends had defeated him when he had returned. Here he was, in cruel and overwhelming flesh. He had cheated every attempt at death the planet had delivered him on will and madness, and now he had stolen her from the lifestream. 

She reclaimed all the breath that had been robbed of her, and screamed. 

(2)

She lost a few seconds, blacked out by confusion and that blinding fear she felt every time she saw him in person. The sound of his name gave her chills, the thought of his face gave her nightmares, and seeing him would inevitably shut her down for a precious few moments. It was as though her body would reject the concept of something so deadly in its actual presence.

Now she had control of herself again, and was forcing her aching body to stand. So was he, apparently, he’d been knocked back a few feet by her instinct to crack him in the face with a headbutt, fast enough and hard enough to surprise even him. He was giggling wildly to himself and wiping blood from his nose with a gloved hand.

“You got strong,” he purred at her. His voice was a low, seductive growl. No matter what he said, it always ran its fingers up her spine. He sucked the blood from his fingertips and licked it from his lip, then turned his attention back to her, grinning. 

She bit down on her fear. She took a long, steady breath. She gripped herself, and steadied her core. Her body automatically took a defensive stance. She was bruised but not badly injured, and could fight even if it would only last a few seconds. She’d never been in so much danger in all of her dangerous life, and it was no time to give in. Now that she could breath, she shifted her focus from her enemy to her surroundings. 

Sephiroth stood in the center of a strange structure, the floor and walls glowing and shifting with the energy of the life stream. It was cavernous and rock like, as though they were inside a geode formed within the energy field. Stones and boulders were scattered around, forming varied paths and valleys. High above them, the swirling, brilliant ocean of living energy boiled. Behind her was some sort of gate with a gentle gravity to it, tendrils of that same life force coaxing her to return to it. This must have been what she had entered the structure through. Another gate behind Sephiroth glowed with a different light, and through it she could see the familiar entrance to the town she had grown up in. Nibelheim. Scattered around the perimeter of the structure were varied paths to dozens, maybe hundreds of other gates. All of the remaining gates were dark.

Once upon a time, maybe five years ago now, she had fallen into the lifestream in Mideel with Cloud. She had found herself in a similar place. The gates had been memories, some hers and some his. She had walked Cloud through the memories and helped him reclaim himself when he had been lost to Sephiroth’s manipulations and lies. Now, it wasn’t her Cloud who stood in the center of the memories, it was her most vicious enemy. How in Gaia had he brought here here? And why? 

“I’m dead,” she said to him and to herself. “I died when I hit the mako, and now I’m hallucinating all of this.”

He scoffed, “You’re not dead. Not quiet.”

“You’re dead. Cloud killed you.” 

His eyes glowed brilliant, glorious green at Cloud’s name.

“Twice. Wait, three times.” 

He snarled in a sudden burst of rage, an energy that she could physically feel in the air around her, but did not attack. Yet, she thought. He didn’t attack yet. 

“I admit I have been compromised,” his fury smoothed into an eerie, charming calm. “But here we are, in our little prison. I even escaped a few times, thanks to all the hard work of darling Mother. I will escape from here again. Perhaps you’ll help me,” He smiled at her, focusing the full force of his devastating beauty on her, and reached a hand to her in welcome. She slapped it away. He grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her close, so close he could kiss her if he wanted. “My angel from the heavens, my gift from Mother.”

She kneed him in the crotch with all the force she could bring. He was right. She had gotten stronger since he’d last encountered her. Years of battling with him, his clones and slaves, Shinra, and any other threat to the planet had packed a lot of power behind her. It was a hit that connected with a solid sound and an audible grunt. He let her go. She got a few desperate paces between them as he gave a sigh and straightened himself, then in a move so fast she couldn’t register it grabbed her, lifted her with one hand, and rammed her into the ground so hard she bounced. 

She didn’t even have time to scream. 

She was sure she’d been out for more than a minute when she came to from that. Her body didn’t hurt this time. She shifted slowly, testing for the broken ribs that she had to have suffered. A hit that hard should have crippled her, maybe killed her, but she was uninjured, including the bruising from her fall. Apparently this place had some sort of healing effect. 

She was laying in a way that let her check where he was before he noticed she was awake. 

Sephiroth rested in the center of the memory field on a rock he used as a seat, gazing up at the softly shifting lights of the lifestream above. He wore the battle armor she was used to seeing him in, with heavily plated shoulders and a long black leather coat. His silver hair, thick, straight and heavy, spilled between his broad shoulders and framed his lovely face. He was shockingly, disturbingly handsome in any mood. His eyes were a brilliant green and framed with thick black lashes, high regal cheekbones, cherubic lips. He was beautifully built, a perfect warrior, flawlessly proportioned and balanced. Quiet and still like this, he reminded her of paintings of angels, or gods. 

“I have no idea how long I’ve been here,” he said suddenly, apparently realizing she was awake. His tone was like he was speaking to a close friend. It chilled her when he sounded like that, like he knew her so well. “I’ve gone through that day in Nibelheim a thousand times. The answer lies in there, I know it. If I can just find the key..” he drifted off, and resumed staring into the life-stream. 

She picked herself up and dusted herself off, and slowly approached him. 

“Is that the only memory you’ve gone through?” she asked, motioning to all the gates around them. Dozens, maybe hundreds of gates sat waiting. 

“Why would I need any other?” He rolled his head to look up at her, and his expression had twisted into that manic grin, any semblance of sanity disappeared as suddenly as it came, “The others are useless to me. There was no life before Mother.” 

“Then why are they there,” she asked. His eyes narrowed, and she realized he must have his own reasons for refusing to use the other gates. But after all this time? It didn’t make sense. 

He stood to meet her, his hands on his hips as he looked down at her. Her heart shrank at the sheer size of him. She wasn’t particularly short for a woman, but he still had a good foot of height on her. She only came up to his chest and had to crane her head back to look up at him. “Why don’t you join me this time? You can witness my reunion with her.”

Before she could decide what to say he grabbed her by her elbow and happily dragged her along to the gate. She grit her teeth against squealing in pain. His grip was insanely, horribly strong. She knew she couldn’t free herself without seriously injuring herself in the process. She had choices, but the best one was to let him show her what he wanted to show her. 

“You’ve seen this before haven’t you? If it wasn’t for Cloud,” he spit the name like it was venom, “I could have liberated the entire planet within days.”

She did not, in particular, want to experience the horrors of Nibelheim with him, but until she understood what was happening and why, she figured it was best to let him talk himself to death. He shoved her through the gate, and followed himself.

(3)

She was more than familiar with the memory. It was burned into her entire life like a tattoo. Every action, every decision, every emotion she had was a direct result of this horrible day. She had returned to it once, for Cloud, to help him find himself in the mess he’d made of his own identity. Now, she was going to witness it with the man who’d caused the whole mess. 

He waved past himself as his memory smoothly asked Cloud if he was going to visit with his friends, met with her to schedule the trip up the mountain, dismissed Zack, Cloud and the other guard to make their visits and give him time to brood. Apparently he didn’t view this part as important, or had poured over it so many times that he’d gleaned any information needed. He fidgeted impatiently as the memory played on.

Tifa was struck by how different he had been before he’d gone mad. The two figures side by side were strikingly separate in posture and expression. Before his fall, he’d been cold, dismissive, yet polite. He was handsome and arrogant, though compassionate and fair. At the time he’d been incredibly famous as Shinra’s most lauded Soldier, head of the First Class, and yet had been disinterested in praise or adoration. He’d had none of the manic rage or burning energy of his future self. 

She had been surprised that the memory of Sephiroth had made it such a point to encourage Cloud to explore his home. When she looked closely with hindsight, she realized he had seemed subtly angry and anxious. She remembered feeling a terrible sense of foreboding when she was near him. She wondered, not for the first time, how long before Nibelheim he had been courting madness. 

She also wondered if these things only stood out to her this time because they were how Sephiroth himself remembered them. 

She’d never learned the name of the poor guard that had died when the bridge broke. She hadn’t realized that, in the memory, Sephiroth had found him twisted and broken from the fall and had pulled him off the trail. He had settled the body in a more dignified position and closed the man’s eyes for him before rejoining the group. He then lied about it, saying there simply wasn’t time to look. She remembered thinking it was unbelievably cruel of him. She wondered if he’d intended to come back later or send a rescue to find the man. Maybe he didn’t want a supposedly innocent girl to see a badly damaged body. Perhaps he couldn’t be bothered beyond that. Sympathy, or callousness and evil. She wasn’t certain. 

The real Sephiroth pushed her between her shoulders to move her along. He didn’t seem impressed with this part either. 

Finally they were at the reactor, where he’d made Tifa and the remaining guard wait outside. She cringed at the memory of how she’d relentlessly flirted with the guard, completely unaware that it was Cloud under that clunky mask, or of the horrors that were unfolding inside. 

Inside the reactor, a red haired man she didn’t recognize, Genesis, was ranting at Sephiroth and Zack. She She’d only seen the memory from her own view and from Cloud’s before, and neither of them had been inside the reactor for this. 

The present Sephiroth, the man solid and real beside her, grabbed her arm and turned her back when she tried to look away. He wanted her to pay attention. 

Genesis was goading Sephiroth, alternating between taunting him and between asking him to join him. Sephiroth had stormed out of the conversation furious, flanked by a worried Zack. Later, anxious irritated, Sephiroth had broken into the basement of Shinra manor and dived into the library he found there. He devoured the incomplete reports. Obsessed over dusted manuscripts. She watched as he developed his theory that Shinra had manufactured him five years ago. She watched as the questions devoured the last shreds of his sanity. As the partial answers he found in those books led him to violent conclusions about his origins, and broke him.

She looked up at the present day man, engrossed in his past drama, and wondered if he had any idea that Vincent had slumbered only one room over, sleeping away the decades with answers about Sephiroth’s real parents. She wondered if she should tell him. She wondered if it would make a difference.

Then, in the memory, Sephiroth gave up the last shreds of himself, and attacked her town.

She tried to close here eyes for this, but he gripped her shoulder and hissed at her to open them. She didn’t want to see the firestorm be brought on her sweet little home. She didn’t want to see him put his sword through Cloud’s mother. She didn’t want to see him pick Cloud up and toss him as easily as a rag doll. His wild, manic, now familiar laughter filled the air over the screams and roar of the flames. He was a furious god of rage rising from the ashes of everything she had ever loved.

They followed him up the mountain, up to the reactor, and Tifa tried to cover her eyes again when the memory of herself and her father followed him. 

“I don’t want to see this again,” she begged quietly. As usual, he was merciless. 

Her father did not have time to attack Sephiroth. The nightmare the man had become had turned and thrown his sword, easily piercing her father to the ground as the teenage version of Tifa screamed. The present day Sephiroth chuckled softly to himself while she dug her nails into her own arm to keep from echoing her memory’s screams. “Daddy,” she whispered breathlessly to herself. Sephiroth looked down at her with an expression of pure glee. 

“What’s wrong my little gift? Doesn’t the beginning of our adventure together delight you?” 

This was the part that had changed her forever. When she stood over her father’s body, wailing in disbelief and grief, and had pulled the sword from his body to charge his murderer. The sword was ungodly heavy in her hands. She remembered the weight of it as she ran up the steps. She remembered how easily he had taken it from her, and how casually he had struck her. She remembered the bright light of real pain, and then darkness until Zack found her later. 

This was enough. This was too much. She turned her back on him and left the memory. This time he did not stop her.

(4)

She had curled herself into a ball and pressed her face into her knees, taking long even breaths to steady herself. She wiped the stubborn tears from her eyes as his heavy footsteps approached her. He stood quietly in front of her for a moment, then squatted before her and reached out a gloved fingertip gently lift her chin to look at him, as though they were old friends comforting each other. 

“You missed the best part,” he said softly. 

She pushed him away, “I’ve seen it.”

“Why so sad? I sent so many of your friends to the lifestream that day. You should be happy.”

“You killed my father,” she said coldly. 

“I did. Nice and quick, too. Ran him right through. Didn’t know what hit him. Dead before he hit the ground.” He flashed his teeth at her in his wild smile, his eyes burning that brilliant mako green. “I’ve always had a soft spot for you, after all.”

“You think you did me a favor my killing my father,” she said dryly. 

“Of course! After all, once I ascend everyone will enter the lifestream anyway. I dispatched him quickly for you. No suffering.” He patted her shoulder, “I tried to do the same for you but apparently you’re tougher than I expected.”

“Stop touching me,” she snapped, as though she had any way to enforce it. 

“Oh come on,” he cooed as he gripped her arms and lifted her to her feet. It was too easy for him. She wasn’t a light woman, made entirely of curves and muscle, but in his hands she was as light as air. “I thought you would see by now. I’ll burn this planet in a glorious fire, and ride it through the heavens to spread my vengeance throughout the universe.” 

She plucked his hands off of her again, and shook her head slowly, a wave of hopelessness overwhelming her, “You’re nuts.”

He cupped her face in his hands and pressed his forehead against hers. His hands were warm and his hold was inescapable. Her stomach twisted at his closeness. His breath was warm on her cheek. “To not embrace the inevitable is madness. Struggling is madness. If you could see that, you’d help me.”

“Stop. Touching. Me.” This time something in her tone made him laugh, and he let her go. 

She wiped another tear from her cheek with the pad of her hand and bit back a sniff of helplessness. What could she do? Stay here forever, reliving the same hellish memory with a cackling madman?

Around her were dozens of dim gates. The memory of Nibelheim was brighter, as was the beautiful, welcoming green portal that she had entered through. Only two choices at the moment then. She chose Nibelheim again, and with an expression of interest he followed. 

This time the memory started a week before the incident. It began in her warm kitchen. Her father was stirring a pot of soup. 

“This is different,” said Sephiroth coldly. He wasn’t in this version yet, because it wasn’t his memory, or Cloud’s memory. It was her memory. She glanced up at him to see his eyes narrow in interest. She wondered how many times he’d scoured through the memory on his own, with no other perspective to change the view.

“Dad!” The memory of her teenage self burst into the house, happy and sweaty from a long day of training, “I finally got it! I can do a beat rush!” 

“Wow Cupcake! That’s awesome!” Her dad wrapped her in a big warm hug. Tifa remembered how he always seemed to smell like the cigarettes he’d sneak when he thought she wasn’t around. The memory coaxed a smile from her. He’d kept up that charade all the way until the end. “Hey, sit down for a second. I have to talk to you about something.”

The girl plopped herself into a kitchen chair, eyes wide with curiosity. Tifa thought how nice it was back then, when someone told her they wanted to talk and it didn’t make her heart sink. What she wouldn’t give to be so innocent again.

“A representative from Shinra called me today,” her father said. “They’re sending someone to investigate the reactor.”

“Seriously?” she jumped up again, with too much energy to sit patiently for more than a few moments. “Finally! Do you think they’ll finally figure out where the monsters are coming from? Dad! That’s a big deal!”

“It is a big deal Cupcake. They’re sending Soldiers. And they need a guide up the mountain.” 

Young Tifa gave a little gasp and grabbed her father by the arm. It was warm and strong, and covered with wiry black hair. In the present, Tifa would have given anything to touch that arm again. 

“Dad, do you think they’ll send Cloud?” 

His dark brown eyes softened as he looked at his daughter, an expression of love and pride that she missed with all her heart. He gently mussed her hair. “I don’t know, actually. They said one of the Soldiers was going to be Sephiroth, and another that hadn’t been assigned yet. And a few guards.” 

Her shoulders slumped a little, but then perked up, “Well maybe he’ll be the other Soldier!”

“Maybe, but, let’s try to not get our hopes up, okay sweetie?” 

In the present, Sephiroth gave a snicker, “You didn’t even care about meeting me? I was so famous then.”

“No,” she snapped. “I just wanted to see Cloud again.”

“And Cupcake,” her father continued, “Listen. I know it’s been really hard for you here lately. And, well, I asked them for a good amount of Gil,” he took a deep breath, “And since you’ll be doing the escorting, I think you should have it.” 

She remembered the exact moment that burning flame of hope ignited in her heart, the dream of escaping all of her problems and running away to the fabulous city of Midgar, where she would be a famous martial arts instructor, find Cloud, who would fall madly in love with her and marry her immediately, they’d have a dozen babies and live happily ever after for forever. In the present she smiled at her youthful idealism and excitement.

“Wow, Dad! Are you sure?”

“Cupcake you know that mountain better than I do. You do tours all the time anyway,” he shrugged, “It’s just that this one goes a little farther and pays a lot better.”

Tifa remembered squealing with the glee only a teenage girl can really feel and hugged her Dad around the neck so hard he choked. After there was laughter and excited planning, bread, and soup. 

In the present, Tifa’s smile faded. 

Next, she was a worried ball of nerves waiting for her charges to show up, silently begging the Planet that Cloud be with them, and then experiencing the crushing disappointment when he did not appear to be. Sephiroth was handsome, but cold and scary. The second soldier was named Zack. He seemed sweet, but there was nothing he could do to make him forgive her for not being her Cloud. The guards seemed to avoid her. It was going to just be a job after all.

From here her version and Sephiroth’s version blended seamlessly, especially since she was participating this time. 

This time, after they returned from the mountain Tifa went home to nervously tell her father about the strange trip. They’d both gone to sleep worried, hoping that was the end of it. Tifa had done her part, had gotten paid for her services, and thought she’d never see Sephiroth or Zack again. Then there were rumors around town that the Soldiers hadn’t left, that Sephiroth had holed up in Shinra manor for some reason. Her father had gossiped with her instructor Zangan that maybe he needed to file a report? Maybe he needed to do more research on the reactor? No one was sure what he was doing down there. When Zack came to the inn for food and supplies he had no answers, and seemed worried.  
It had been a mildly interesting thing to wonder about, but everything to do with Shinra was strange, and Tifa didn’t concern herself too much with it. She had had a big move to plan for.

Then, in the middle of the night, her father shook her awake, screaming about a fire. 

In the present Tifa felt like she was dreaming. She numbly watched herself race out to the burning town square. Watched Zangan desperately bark orders. Watched them figure out enough of what had happened. Watch her father’s gaze turn to the mountain, and then to his terrified daughter, and the exact moment he decided they had to try to stop it. A middle aged man and an eighteen year old girl against the greatest warrior the world had ever seen. 

She knew they had known their chances as they ran. As they squeezed through secret tunnels Tifa had learned like her own body to get to the top as fast as possible. As they faced the steps of the reactor. She had thought they might have gotten a little further than they had. That maybe they could have slowed Sephiroth down long enough for some better help to arrive. He simply couldn’t have imagined the ruthless efficiency Sephiroth would use to deal with them. 

In her memory time slowed to a crawl. Her father was running up the stairs, and Sephiroth was turning. 

“He was a wonderful father,” she said through a tight throat. 

In the present, Sephiroth looked bored. The desperate sacrifice of her father had never been more than a few seconds to him. None of the people he had murdered in the town registered as anything but inconveniences. They were flies he had swatted and nothing more.

“When my Mom died, I think I was all he had. He never re-married. He really focused on taking good care of me.” 

In the memory Sephiroth was raising his hand, slowly, so slowly, to throw his sword like a terrible bullet. 

“He loved me so much. I was really lucky to have a Dad like that.” 

Sephiroth unleashed his attack, and her father went flying. In seconds it was over. Her teenage memory was howling, unable to really grasp what had happened yet, and like the brave, stupid girl she had been tried to avenge her father. 

In the present, Tifa knelt before her father’s body. His eyes had already lost focus. He’d already stopped breathing. 

She would give anything to have him hold her again. To see that look of gentle look of love on his face.

Sephiroth squatted across from her, glowering. If she wasn’t mistaken, she’d think it was a pout. “You’re missing the best part,” he said again.

She tried to pat her father’s hand, but it was only a memory. She couldn’t really interact with it. “I don’t care about Jenova.” She stood, and looked at him directly in his beautiful, terrible face, “I don’t care about what you want me to see. I don’t care about watching Cloud beat you by accident. I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.”

The memory faded around them, and they were standing in the center of the gates again.

(5)  
“Now that,” cooed Sephiroth, “Was different.”

She was exhausted. She had just watched her father die twice, once from Sephiroth’s viewpoint and once from her own. She did not want to watch it again. 

“I’m so sad that you weren’t more impressed with me,” he purred. His tone was mean and gleeful, like a bully with a new target. “Didn’t Cloud run away to follow in my footsteps? I thought you were part of my fan club.” 

She shook her head. Her eyes were filling with tears again, and she was almost out of the energy she needed to keep a full breakdown at bay. “I hate you for taking him away from me.” 

“I didn’t take him away from you. His own foolishness sent him running off to Shinra.” She turned away from him. He grabbed her shoulder and turned her back. “Wanting to be a big hero. Leaving you all alone. Poor little Tifa.” 

She pressed here eyes shut as tight as she could. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. She growled through clenched teeth, “I told you to stop touching me.”

He laughed, that long low bedroom laugh that twisted in her gut, and brushed a thumb over her cheek, wiping away her tears. “Why were things so difficult for you Cupcake?” 

She slapped him before she could think to stop herself. He let her do it, and giggled softly at how little damage she could really do to him. It was a chance to remind her how much stronger he was, how she had no defenses against him. “What did you want to run away from?” 

Nearby, another memory gate activate itself, glowing in invitation. He looked up at it, then back at her at her with an evil sneer. She felt like a mouse staring down a tiger. “I suppose we get to find out then, hm?”

“No.” She said it firmly and centered her weight on her heals. She had no need to relive that particular moment. She did not want him to know about it, or see it. It was none of his business. It wasn’t anyone’s business.

“No? No. Don’t touch me. Don’t make me watch. What makes you think you have any say here Cupcake?” The way he twisted her father’s affectionate name for her felt like poison. Hatred of him spiked through her. She managed not to stomp a foot. 

“Who’s Genesis?” she asked, hoping to distract him to something else. Sephiroth’s grin fell off his face as he twisted into sudden anger. Nearby, a second new memory activated. It was his turn to grit his teeth. 

“Watch it little girl,” he growled. 

“Or what, you’ll beat me up? Torture me? Talk me to death?” She gave an exaggerated shrug. 

His eyes glowed as he observed her, and he paced her in a circle with his finger tapping his lips. He looked like he was playing chess. “An excellent question. What am I going to do with you, Tifa?”

At least he hadn’t called her cupcake. She kept her back straight as she met his gaze. In that moment she was certain that he would break her. It would take some time and it would be difficult, but it was inevitable. The more he learned about her, the easier it would be.

“Whatever it is should begin with some manners.” She crossed her arms in a show of bravado that she did not feel. 

“Manners?!” He double over in howling laughter, clutching his belly like it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Where do you get off telling me to have manners?”

She patiently waited for his laughter to subside to an amused chuckle. She could feel her resolve fading under his burning light. “I don’t want to sit here and be tormented by you for forever.”

“I suppose that depends on your behavior then, doesn’t it?” He snapped his fingers to himself, appearing to fidget, “There are so many possibilities. How can I use you? Are you useful to me at all? Or can I just play with you.” His voice dropped to a seductive tone, “You’re very entertaining.” 

“I’m not a toy,” she said flatly. 

“Oh the spark on you! I like it.” His face suddenly fell from amusement to anger, and he leaned in close. His voice was dark and hungry, “You’re nothing more than that. A toy for me. Mother showed me a little feather dangling in the void, and let me snatch you up.” He threw his arms wide to the infinite lifestream above, “Aren’t we grateful for her mercy?”

Tifa gave a long, exaggerated sigh, and turned her back on him. 

So, there was Nibelheim and two new memories. She knew hers and refused to share it with him. She had the impression that he was equally stubborn about the memory she’d evoked in him. The last active gate was the glowing door to the lifestream.

If she went through that door, she knew she would die. She would dissolve into the lifestream and become part of the infinite cycle, as she had been in the process of doing before he’d stolen her into this hell. 

She marched toward it. 

“What are you doing,” he growled, following close behind like a demonic specter. 

“I’m throwing myself back in.”

He snorted in derision, but kept close. “Humans cling so desperately to life. Cowardly and stationary. They have to be removed from it. You won’t face the lifestream on your own.”

She focused on steeling herself. There was a slight incline leading to the gate, and a structure that looked like steps. It was big enough that she had to climb. These steps were built for something much larger than she was, although Sephiorth followed her easily.

“Tifa,” his voice was low and warning. He didn’t seem fully convinced that she would do it, but she felt the faintest sense of fear in his tone. How dare she deprive him of his prize, she thought bitterly.

She ignored him and rested a hand on the gate. 

Through it the abyss swirled in soft floating streams, infinite in depth and impossible in volume. It smelled like the middle of the ocean, or maybe deep in a forest, or the coldest peak of a mountain. It felt cool as the deepest glacier, as hot as a venting volcano. It was the essence of millions of years and billions of lives combined, forming the soul of the entire planet itself. In the distance she felt the sharpness of its pain. Of the wounds it endured from Jenova, Shinra, and even Sephiroth himself. This was the planet she had fought so hard for, had lost so much for. She felt it calling to her, inviting her to join it, to be at peace and live again. To fight again in a new life, freed from this one and all the pain and joy that had come with it. 

She knew someone was calling her name, but she didn’t know who it was and did not care. She wanted to give herself entirely to the Planet, to let it take her essence and spirit into the great flow of the world. Something was anchoring her to the world by the faintest of threads. Nothing to be concerned with. She would break free in a moment. She and the planet were one being and she was many beings. She was a drop in the ocean. She was a star in the sky. She was a leaf of grass. She was a grain of sand. She was-

“Tifa!” 

She turned sharply in wrath, and remembered herself in a devastating rush. She gasped sharply and glared down the steps at him. 

Sephiroth had managed to hold her hand, and it was everything in his power to hold her back. When she turned on him, she could not know that it was with the full force of the planet at her back. It illuminated her body and skin. It pulled on her hair and clothing. She was a goddess in human flesh for a single moment. Her lips sneered from her teeth at the audacity of him to delay her passage, the anger of the planet at all the pain he had caused her focused through her body. She prepared to bring the force of her power to smite him, but before she could a small piece of her remembered herself. She saw the rare lucidity in his eyes, and an expression she’d never seen on him before. Of fear, and pain, and desperate hope. 

“Wait,” he whispered. “Wait, please wait.” That was all he could do. Here in the burning green fire of the planet he was himself for a few precious moments. The power allowed him to rise from the depths of his madness and rage and grief to grab her hand, and plead. It wouldn’t last long. He fell to his knees and gripped her hand as hard as he could, and closed his eyes against the glory. “Please.”

“You don’t want to be alone,” she accused. It was her, just her, the human woman Tifa, one with herself and no one else now, with no memory of the divinity she had briefly embodied. She mercifully stepped down from the gate. When he opened his eyes they were filled with anger again, furious at being bested. He still held her hand.

They stood frozen like that for a long moment before she chose to speak.

“Fine,” she said, “But I have rules.” 

He gave a deep rumbling growl that she felt in her feet, silent. 

“You are not allowed to hurt me on purpose.” 

His teeth flashed in a snarl. 

“Words count. No being cruel to be cruel. I’m not going to let you torture me for eternity.” She pointed at the gate, “I’d rather die.”

He scowled, but slowly nodded. She felt like he was fighting himself not to tear her apart right now, but he remained still.

“If I don’t want to show you something, you respect that,” she said, thinking of the waiting gates. He silently agreed to that as well.

“And when I tell you not to touch me, you stop touching me,” she added. He narrowed his eyes and looked down at his hand gripping hers. It was so massive in comparison that it completely enveloped hers, clothed in a heavy leather glove scuffed from countless battles. It seemed to cause him effort to let her hand go, but he did, and stood up, straightened himself to the full scale of his size, and stared darkly down at her. He was momentarily humbled, though she doubted it would last. 

“Anything for me?” she asked, pretending there was any fairness in this. 

“Don’t ever do that again,” he snapped, and turned away from her. 

(6) 

Sephiroth had stopped talking to her and was gazing up into the swirling abyss, silent for the moment. She inched away from him, and when she had some distance, gave a quiet sigh. She had survived the encounter and bought herself a thin veil of safety. Back to square one, then.

There were two new memories they had not yet addressed. One she didn’t want to go through and didn’t see the point of sharing with him, and one from his past that he also refused to explore. Years ago she and Cloud had fallen into the lifestream together, and found each other in a field like this. In that dreamy place they had worked together, combining their memories to help Cloud remember who he was. That he wasn’t just a construct made by an evil scientist in Sephiroth’s image. That he was a man she had grown up with. That he was her friend, and more. They had found the strength together to return to the living world through the lifestream. Was she supposed to do that for Sephiroth? 

She glanced at the villain, tall and glorious, transfixed by something he saw in the lights high above. The green of it reflected off of his already brilliant eyes. She had a hard time looking at him when he was still. His beauty was so deceiving. He almost looked like the hero he had once been. 

She shook her head. She had been able to help Cloud because they had been through so much together. She had memories of him in childhood that had been important to prove who he was. And memories of Nibelheim that proved he had been there as a guard. They’d fought together, lived together, loved each other before they had fallen into the lifestream. The only connection she had with Sephiroth was his evil and the despair it had caused her. She hadn’t fallen into the lifestream with him. She had been stolen from it by him. 

A wish to talk to Aeris suddenly hit her, as it did every now and again over the years, when she felt like giving up. She wondered what the flower girl would say? Something brave, or something gentle and comforting. Or something inspiring. Tifa gave a soft sigh as she thought of her long dead friend, and another gate lit up. This broke Sephiroth from his reverie.

“What’s that,” he pointed at a new gate. Tifa recognized the moment, a beautiful night under the starry skies of Cosmo Canyon. She shrugged, “I guess I could show you. It’ll be boring for you though. No one dies.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “It will be something new.”

If she wasn’t mistaken she would think it almost sounded like he was asking her permission. 

(6)

The memory was the night in Cosmo Canyon that Bugenhagen showed them the workings of the lifestream. Aeris had stayed behind to talk to the scientist, and the things he had to say to her had quieted her normally bright spirit. After everyone had gone to bed Tifa watched her slip out of the inn. When Aeris didn’t come back, she followed her. 

The present versions of themselves trailed along.

Aeris was curled up at the edge of a cliff. Her face was buried in her knees and she’d huddled herself into her jacket. She had been so small. A slender, short girl with delicate and beautiful features. Her body had seemed so fragile in comparison to the incredible spirit she held. Tifa remembered being quiet enough not to scare her, but loud enough that she didn’t surprise her. She sat next to the beautiful girl and dangled her feet off the edge of the rock face. 

“That bad?” 

Aeris looked up at her, her face lovely and soft in the starlight. Her eyes were red and wet. Tifa smoothed the amber bangs from her friends face, then pulled her into a comforting hug. Aeris snuggled into her with a soft hiccuping sob and leaned against her. Tifa held the girl through a good, well deserved cry. 

“They’re all gone Tifa. I’m the last one. I’m all alone.”

Tifa stroked Aeris’s hair gently for a while, and she rested her cheek against the top of Aeris’s head, “What do you mean silly? You have all these people who love you to bits.”

“No, no,” Aeris wiped her eyes. “I thought there might be more of my people up north or something. You know, the Cetra. The Ancients. I thought I could find them if I could get to the promised land. But Bugenhagen explained they were all wiped out. My Mom was the only survivor, and she died when I was little.” 

Tifa gave her an extra squeeze at that. She knew all about losing a mother at a young age. Aeris had been so small that she didn’t remember her mother at all, and Tifa hadn’t decided yet if that was a mercy or much worse than what she had gone through. “I thought Jenova and Sephiroth were ancients, weren’t they? That’s what he said at Nibelheim.”

Aeris gave a soft whimpering sigh, and relaxed against Tifa’s warmth. “No, they aren’t. I don’t know what he is, or what Jenova is, but they’re not Ancients.”

“Huh,” her past self had said, the revelation nothing more than an interesting fact at the moment. The science of it all had been confusing to her anyway. In the present Sephiroth tensed beside her, and reached out to grab her elbow. She pulled away from him to watch the memory. 

“So, it’s just me.” Aeris had given another defeated sigh, and leaned back to gaze up into the midnight sky. “How can I protect this great big planet all by myself?”

Cosmo Canyon was shielded by the nearby mountains from the light pollution of other towns. The dry, arid atmosphere kept the sky clear of all clouds. The result was an incredibly stunning display of the galaxy in motion. The stars glittered in a way Tifa had never seen before. Not in her mountain home town on the clearest summer nights, and definitely not under the iron sky of Midgar. She had felt as though the planet itself was trying to comfort them. 

“Hey,” she’d said to Aeris. “You’re not really alone you know. You have us.” 

Aeris had looked at her in the starlight, here eyes filled with tears, and had smiled gently at her. Tifa reached up to wipe away her tears. “You know you have me. And Cloud, and the others. We love you so much Aeris. I love you. And you know that we’re fighting with you.”

Aeris gave another little sniffle, but it sounded much happier. “I love you too Tifa. You’re my best friend.” She’d rested her head on Tifa’s shoulder again, “I’ve never really had friends before, you know?” 

Tifa had returned her smile, “Well you have them now. We’ll get through all this together. We’ll stop Sephiroth. We’ll stop Shinra. We’ll save the planet and it’s all going to be okay.” She patted Aeris’s hand gently, “And don’t be scared of being alone. You have me. I’ll protect you.” She flexed her free bicep, and winked in an exaggerated way.

Aeris giggled a little at that, and when she looked up at Tifa, feigning seriousness. “I’ll protect you too. We’ll protect each other, okay?”

“Yes ma’am, and then we’ll move to a farm and breed Chocobos.”

“Oh, and have those cute tiny little ones too! It can live in the house!”

“Yes! And we’ll grow our own food and bake bread all day.”

“Cloud can come too.”

“No! He’ll eat all the bread!”

The women fell into a sweet, musical laughter. In the present, Tifa sniffled and held a hand to her breast. If only she had kept her promise. If only she had protected Aeris from Sephiroth’s callous evil. Or caught her one more time slipping away into danger. Or convinced her they could stay with her and be safest together. She had so many regrets, and so many things she wanted to tell her. The absence of Aeris had never really healed in her heart. 

The memory faded and left them standing in the cave. She felt a brief, lingering feeling of hope.

As soon as it was over Sephiroth grabbed her and turned her to face him, a new expression of shock and anger. 

“Tifa. Answer me carefully,” he hiss through gritted teeth. “What did she mean that I’m not an ancient.” He was so furious that his hands were shaking.

Tifa blinked for a second. How did he not know? Then the realization hit her, that he had never found the truth about himself. When would he have known? When he’d terrorized the planet eleven years ago, searching for the black materia and then summoning the massive meteor that had nearly killed them all? When he’d briefly returned through the remnant clones five years later? Would Jenova have even allowed him to understand it if he had figured it out for himself? It had been the lie that great evil had placed to snap the last shreds of his sanity. And now she had to tell him the truth.

“Oh shit,” she whispered. 

“Tifa.” His single black wing exploded from his black as he neared losing control. “What did she mean.”


End file.
